“O my dove, in the clefts of the rock, In the covering of the cliff, Let me see your appearance, Let me hear your voice; For your voice is sweet, And your appearance is lovely.”
See, you are beautiful, my love! See, you are beautiful! Your eyes are as doves behind your veil. Your hair is like a flock of goats, Going down from Mount Gil‛aḏ.
My dove, my perfect one, Is the only one, the only one of her mother, The choice of the one who bore her. The daughters saw, and called her blessed, Sovereignesses and concubines, And they praised her.